Violent Redemption
by Alex Kade
Summary: Brandt's worst nightmare - another protection detail. Will he make the ultimate sacrifice to make sure things go according to plan this time?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So...this was actually the second story I had ever started working on in this fandom, but then the whole crocodile thing happened and it got usurped, lol. Finally got back to it yesterday thanks to The Beta Branch gang giving me some not-so-subtle shoves in this direction (you guys rock!), so I figured I should start getting it up here. Enjoy!

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><p>"No."<p>

Ethan and Brandt stared at each other from across a table, the team leader looking up at the determined gaze of his agent who was leaning down on the wood, knuckles turning white as they supported his weight.

"You don't make the calls, Brandt," Hunt calmly reminded him.

"What, and you do?" Brandt pushed back away from the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "You just decide everything we do from here on out? Take whatever mission you feel like without even talking to us?"

Benji, who sat on a small couch across the room beside Carter, cleared his throat and nervously scratched his head with one hand. "Actually, he…he sort of…well, he _did_."

Carter kicked him in the foot. "Stay out of it, Benji," she mumbled out one side of her mouth, but the damage had already been done. Brandt looked at them for a second, then huffed out a disbelieving laugh as he nodded his head, turning back to face Hunt.

"Right, of course he did. Majority rules? They say yes, so that means I automatically have to?" He punched his fist down onto the wood in anger. "We're supposed to be a _team, _Ethan. That means we _all _accept the mission, and I don't. I won't."

"I don't really see what the big deal is," Benji offered, trying to dissolve some of the tension in the room. "I mean it's just a…just a kid, right? We stick to the shadows, babysit for a few days, keep the ransom hounds at bay, maybe have a daiquiri or two once the mission is over, and come home. It should be easy."

"There," Brandt declared, clapping his hands together and pointing at Benji, still keeping his focus on Ethan. "Right there," he repeated, pointing again for emphasis. "_That's _why we can't take this mission."

Benji looked genuinely confused. "What did I say?"

Brandt stared at him for a second before repeating the word in a slow, clear fashion. "'Easy.'" He sucked in a breath, cocking his head to the side as he continued. "You know what happened the last time my guys said a job should be easy?" He turned back to glare pointedly at Hunt. "A man's _wife_ got taken from him."

The words acted like a flash bomb exploding in the room, freezing everything in place for several seconds, including the air in everyone's lungs. Time started again as Benji brought a hand up to cover his mouth, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Carter dropped her gaze to the floor as she twined her fingers together in her lap, and Ethan closed his eyes, letting out his breath in a long sigh.

"That's _why _I need you on this one, Brandt," Hunt said quietly. "You'll act as the critical eye, see things that maybe we miss, act on something we wouldn't think to. It's _because _you've been through this before that makes you the best man for the job. You won't make the same mista-"

The files that were lying open on one end of the table went flying across the room with one sweep of Brandt's arms. "You're right, I _won't _make the same mistake again. I'm out, Ethan. I _don't _accept the mission." He stormed towards the door and jerked it open.

"Brandt," Hunt called out to him.

Stopping in the doorway, the analyst turned his head slightly to speak over his shoulder without directly looking at his team leader. "You said it was never my job to protect Julia, that it was yours," he reminded Ethan. "By that logic, it should be the job of that little girl's father to protect her, not ours."

"Hiring us is the best way he knows how to do that," Hunt countered.

"Yeah." Brandt bowed his head and laughed cynically. "Just like the IMF thought the best way to protect _you _was to put _me _on the job."

Ethan raised his voice in growing irritation. "It's different, Brandt, and you know it. He's a politician. He's not trained to pull protection detail."

Brandt twisted around enough to lock eyes with his team leader. "Neither are we, Ethan, I already proved that. Standing around just waiting for something to happen? That's not what we do. We're not bodyguards. Tell the IMF to find someone else."

"And if they fail? Would it be okay _then_ to call us in? Is that how it should work?"

"Yes!" Brandt said, exasperated. "Extraction. That _is_ something we're good at."

A little shocked by the affirmative answer to his sarcastic questions, Hunt paused for a second and furled his brow. "And what if it's too late by then? What if there's nothing left to extract?"

Brandt dropped his head and turned his body back to the door. "Then at least we won't be the ones who have to live knowing that our _mistake _put her in the wrong hands to begin with." With that, he slipped out the door and shut it behind him.

"Brandt!" Ethan hollered. He got up and flung the door open. "William!" Watching his agent turn the corner without so much as looking back, he sighed and returned to the room.

"Well that went well," Benji mumbled.

Carter watched as Ethan slowly made his way to the scattered pile of papers on the ground and stooped down to pick up a photo of the girl. "So what do we do?" she asked.

"We go in without him," he replied, turning to shoot a hard gaze at both of them. "And _no one_ treats this as an easy mission. Is that understood? That's how people get killed."

Carter and Benji nodded slowly, knowing only too well the consequences of making light of a mission. They all had their weight in guilt to bear, and adding more to that was not something any of them relished. That in mind, they couldn't fault Brandt for wanting to avoid that kind of pain again, not when it seemed he was just starting to be able to breathe again after the last incident. No, they would do it without him, and they would do it successfully.

They hoped.

_** ~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

Brandt shot up in bed, gasping out a startled breath. Sweat ran down his forehead and dripped into his eyes until he wiped it away with a shaking hand.

"Shit," he whispered, doing his best to calm himself down. After taking several slow, deep breaths, he stood up and wandered out into the kitchen of his small, simple apartment. Getting himself some water, he only took a few tiny sips before setting down the glass and leaning his hands against the counter, his head hanging low between his arms.

"Shit!" he shouted again, and knocked the glass through the air. It shattered against the wall, leaving a wet stain on the paper where the water exploded out in a wide radius. Brandt ignored it as he rushed back into his bedroom and ripped a shirt off its closet hanger.

_** ~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

"Athena is in position," Benji said from inside his tactical vehicle - a silver school bus with dark tinted windows. Looking over the camera feeds on his computer, he first saw Carter. She was the spitting image of the hot, new substitute teacher making her way around the campus in her free time between classes. Hunt, by contrast, was sitting at the coffee shop across the street from the fancy private school looking for all the world like a businessman working away on his laptop. Seeing the rest of the parking lot virtually empty of all cars aside from a few staff vehicles, the tech scrunched up his face as he spoke. "I think I got here too early. Do you think we got here too early? I looked like an idiot pulling through the gate. 'Oh, excuse me, I didn't _mean _to be a half hour early. I'm just _so _excited to be driving around a busload of spoiled pre-teens.'"

"Relax, Hermes," Ethan said under his breath, hiding a slight smile. "The rest of the convoy should be here soon. They didn't suspect a thing."

Benji sighed and changed the subject. "Why do I always get stuck with the ridiculous code names? I couldn't have been Apollo, or…or maybe Ares? God of war? That would've been better."

Carter jumped into the conversation while she walked with an open book in her hand as if she were studying it. "Hermes was the messenger of the gods. It makes more sense."

"It doesn't _need _to make sense. It's just a code name. With only three of us-" He cut himself off as a line of buses that matched his appeared on the video feed, having just pulled around a street corner where he had tapped into a traffic camera. "Zeus, convoy is approaching from the South. We've got…six buses."

Ethan sat up a little straighter in his seat and swiveled his chair just enough to see the South end of the street from his peripheral vision. "Copy that. That's six potential threats. Keep your eyes out for the assignment, and Carter, make sure you tag that bus."

"On it," she answered, scanning the groups of children that were beginning to filter out of the building. "Anyone see her?" she asked as the kids boarded.

"Negative," Benji replied as his eyes flicked from one video feed to the next. "I think I can see some of her friends…she should be with them, right?"

"Where the hell is she?" Ethan asked, standing up to get a better look. "Does anybody see the assignment?"

He had just begun to race across the street when another voice broke through the comm. "Olympus, you've been compromised. I repeat, you've been compromised. Communication is _not _secure. This is Prometheus. I've stolen the fire."

"Is that-?" Benji started to ask.

"What's your status, Prometheus?" Hunt interrupted.

"Oh, the usual," Brandt replied, breathing heavily as he ran. "Keeping myself out of the stars. Gods don't exactly immortalize screw-ups."

Ethan and Carter convened at their bus as Hunt asked, "Can you make it to the Trojan Horse?"

"Negative, Zeus, too far. Campus is too big. Might as well be on the other side of the galaxy."

Snapping his fingers at Benji, Ethan urged him to get the bus moving before turning his attention back to his earpiece. "The girl?"

"Scared. Upset. Doesn't know what's going on. We pretty much just threw her world into a big, black hole, here."

"Stop!" an accented voice carried over Brandt's comm. Ethan recognized it right away as South African, and furled his brow as he mentally filtered through potential candidates for who the threat may be.

"Don't stop," he ordered, "they won't shoot while you're holding the girl. They need her alive. We should be able to rendezvous in a minute." Only silence met him. "Prometheus, do you copy?"

The accented voice returned, much clearer, much closer to Brandt's mic. "We all copy, _Zeus. _Where is the girl?"

Alarmed looks passed between the three members of the IMF team. Ethan stabbed a finger towards the windshield as a sign for Benji to go faster. "I don't know," he answered. "I was under the impression my agent had her."

"What he is carrying is a _doll_ - a very impressive one, I might add, but a doll just the same. Somehow I do not think it will get the Senator's attention, don't you agree? Now tell me where the girl is, and perhaps you get your agent back in one piece."

They could hear Brandt laugh for a second, but then the noise was cut off by a grunt. When he spoke, there was a touch of smug amusement in his tone despite the fact that he was obviously speaking through gritted teeth. "Oh, come on, you heard everything. They don't know where she is, and you know it."

The sound of something heavy being slammed against metal – most likely lockers – carried through. "Tell me where she is or I kill you now."

"Kill me now and you'll never find her," Brandt shot back.

Benji hit the brakes hard as he drove right up onto the grounds at the backside of the campus. Ethan and Carter had jumped out before the bus had even come to a complete stop, and were already racing towards the two buildings closest to them. Carefully, but as quickly as possible, Hunt made his way down an empty hallway, gun at the ready. A sharp gasp echoed in his ear, and then the failed kidnapper was speaking too clearly into the mic for the device to still be on his agent.

"You find the girl, and you call me on this line in one hour. Until then, consider me the eagle to your Prometheus."

"Nonononono_no_!" Ethan shouted into his mic, but the link went dead. "Benji, get that comm. back on the line!"

"I-I-I can't. I can't trace it; I can't tap into it. It's almost is if Brandt…" He clamped his mouth shut.

Carter lowered her gun as she stood at the end of the last hall in her building and closed her eyes. "He's buying us time."

Ethan balled his fist up and nearly punched it into one the lockers, but he stopped himself at the last second, settling for merely hitting it with the heel of his palm. He leaned his head against his hand for a few seconds before speaking. "Then lets not waste it," he said as he pushed himself back up. He pulled his own mic out of his ear and shoved it in his pocket, whispering out a curse as he made his way back to his remaining teammates.

_** ~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

"Benji, I want a playback on everything Brandt said," Ethan ordered as he jumped into the bus.

The tech nodded and had the conversation sounding through the speakers within seconds. Jane, Ethan, and Benji listened intently, looking for the clues they knew Brandt must have been dropping for them.

"Space references," Ethan pointed out. "Stars, galaxy, black hole-"

Benji snapped his fingers. "There's a small planetarium on campus. Do you think he-"

"Jane, go take a look. Don't take a direct route; weave around campus and watch your back. These guys are probably waiting for us to lead them right to the mark. Benji, take the bus back around to the front of the building - park it near the west side. I'll meet you there, and be ready to move. I'll be coming out hot."

"Why? What are you doing?"

"Pulling the same prank twice." He smirked at the tech. "How good are you at taking corners with this thing?"

Benji's face dropped. "We're the decoy, aren't we?" At Ethan's smile, he sighed and got ready to drive. "It can't be that much different than the van, right?"

"Atta boy," Hunt said, and nodded to Jane. "Let's go."

Jane and Ethan split up and carefully began winding their way through the buildings, doing their best to look as though they belonged on campus should a member of the faculty pass by, and keeping a close watch on anyone who might be paying a little too much attention to them. The field trip taking place on a Saturday where most of the kids weren't supposed to be on school grounds was a blessing and a curse – the curse making it easier for the kidnappers to get to her; the blessing revealing itself in the ease in which Ethan and Jane could traverse the halls without too much worry of being detected, and the simple fact that Benji had been able to drive a bus right up onto the grounds without anybody even noticing. It seemed there were only some lingering staff in the office portions of the building, as well as a classroom reserved for Saturday detention in one of the front hallways. It was this room that Ethan slowly made his way towards, _after _he went in search of the item that would aide him in his plan.

Everything in place, Ethan switched the game up a little. He had seen the guy that was supposed to be trailing him, losing him easily enough in the maze of hallways and buildings without letting on that the team was aware of the tail. Now Hunt would have to go find that guy, and pretend to still be mouse when, in fact, he was now the cat. It didn't take long, as Ethan had left a false trail of breadcrumbs for the idiot to follow via directions whispered to his team over a purposely insecure line.

"Guys, I got her," he spoke quietly into the comm, and watched from around a corner as the guy snapped his head up at the announcement.

"Location?" Jane asked, playing along.

"Detention hall, west side. I'm going in."

He stuck around for just long enough to see the guy repeat the news to whoever else was after the girl, then sped off to beat them to the punch. When he was close, he pulled the nearest fire alarm, managing to get back to the room just as the door swung open and kids started filing out. Noting two men – one of them his prior tail – converging on him from the east end of the hall, he bent down and scooped up the other part of his plan.

"Hermes, I'm on the move. Package has been obtained."

"Ready and waiting, Zeus," Benji replied.

The two men saw the girl in Ethan's arms and took off after him. As he ran, he caught a third moving to intercept him from an adjoining hall.

"Three on my tail!" he warned. "Athena, status?"

"All clear," she responded as she pushed the door open to the planetarium. "Get her to transport. I'll meet up with you at the rendezvous."

Hunt silently thanked his teammates for so easily picking up on his ruse without him having to explain much of anything, and as he hurtled out the door towards the bus that Benji had already started moving forward in a slow roll, a grateful smile lit up his face. He leaped up into the open door, cradling Brandt's doll to his chest like a real girl, and gripped hold of one of the seats as the tech floored it. A black SUV careened around a corner to pick up the three assailants, which Benji allowed to catch up just a little before gunning the bus through the school's exit out into traffic.

"Where'd you find the doll?" he shouted over his shoulder as he weaved through the streets, making sure to keep the SUV just close enough not to lose them.

"Exactly where Brandt told us – 'the other side of the galaxy.'" His knuckles turned white as he squeezed the chair even harder. "The opposite end of campus from the _planetarium, _not the front doors. He told us what we needed to know, we just didn't figure out the code in time."

A sharp turn tilted the bus up slightly on two wheels, nearly throwing Ethan off his feet. "Sorry!" Benji shouted. A glance in the mirror revealed the SUV rounding the turn several cars behind them, as well as a very flustered-looking Ethan. "We'll get him back," the tech assured his leader.

"We'll get him back," Hunt repeated coldly, something flaring in his eyes that made Benji believe wholeheartedly that Ethan would most definitely succeed, and god help anyone that got in his way.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** And the plot thickens... Fair warning, this is going to be my "How can you be so evil to our darling Brandt?" story. *wicked grin* This is only the beginning, my friends... Also, Beta Branch, I salute you, and throwing one out to my awesome reviewers, too!

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><p>The afternoon sunlight filtered through the glassless windows of the abandoned office building, acting as spotlights to the clouds of dancing dust particles floating through the air. Brandt watched them with an almost detached fascination as he worried over the girl and his team, ignoring his split lip, the bruising on his jaw, stomach, and back from the beating he took at the school, and the ache in his shoulders from his arms being shackled too high above his head. He had been stripped of his weapons, his belt, his shoes, and his shirt; but it was warm, so that didn't bother Brandt any further than as an insult to his dignity. His captor hadn't laid a hand on him since chaining him up like a slab of beef, and no one was left in the room for him to trade insults with. As far as being held hostage went, Brandt had to chuckle slightly at the notion that he was actually <em>bored.<em>

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the sound of the door opening somewhere behind him interrupted his musing.

"Of course," he mumbled, and rotated his body around the best he could in order to face his visitor. The man did _not _look happy.

"Your friends got away with the girl," he spat out angrily.

Brandt's smile was cut short as a handful of his hair was used to painfully wrench his head back. The African man stepped up close to his face and hissed into his ear, "They have precisely twelve minutes to contact me, or _you _will pay the price for her escape."

"They're not just going to hand her over," Brandt calmly informed his captor.

His head was released, and a hard shove sent him twisting back around on his chains. His wrists and arms cried out in protest, but he managed to keep the pain from showing on his face. Instead, he simply glared at the African who had come around to stand in front of him. Slowly, a sly grin spread across his captor's face.

"Good. It means I can have a little fun with you before I win my prize." He walked around the analyst, looking him over as if deciding where his "fun" should begin. He spotted the circular scar on the lower right side of Brandt's back, the wound clearly healed but still new enough to show pink in the center. "Bullet?" he asked casually.

"Germany, just after I took out another self-important asshole like you."

The man lightly brushed his fingers against the sensitive spot, causing Brandt to reflexively jerk away. "You'll be _wishing _for another bullet by the time I'm done with you." Chuckling to himself, he left Brandt alone again to think about his fate.

"They got the girl," Will told himself. "That's all that matters. You accomplished the mission, Brandt."

The thought wasn't nearly as comforting as he had hoped.

_**~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

The driver of the SUV had lost sight of the bus for only a minute, not nearly enough time for the whole vehicle to just disappear…and yet, as he rounded the turn he could see nothing of the large, silver rig. He ordered the other men to look around, to peer down the alleyways as they passed; but the only bus any of them saw was a city transit boarding passengers, it's entire side painted with a giant red and blue ad for toothpaste.

Worry sounding in his tone, he dialed up his boss and simply said, "We lost them."

The cool, calm response followed up by screaming was exactly what the man expected, and he held the phone away from his ear until things quieted down a bit. While he attempted to smooth things over with his employer, one of the other men glanced back at the city bus through the rearview mirror. The bright, smiling mouth on the bus's front grill made him shake his head, wondering why anyone would choose to paint a vehicle that way…

_**~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

"Are we clear?" Ethan asked from the floor of the bus's aisle where he was monitoring the images that the projector was displaying in the rig's windows.

"They're gone," Benji said with a relieved sigh, then turned back to his team leader sporting a wide smile. "I told you the instant camouflage would come in handy."

Hunt nodded as he stood up, eyeing the video projections of people moving to their seats before he turned off the feed. "Never lose that love for random tech, Benj."

Dunn smirked at the hidden "well-done" and dialed everyone's comms to a different line. "Athena?" he asked.

There was a moment of hesitation before Jane spoke up, her voice tight with emotion; but whether it was from anger, fear, regret, grief – or all of the above – the guys couldn't tell. "Proceeding to rendezvous," was all she said before she went silent.

Benji looked towards Ethan for direction, who merely gazed ahead at nothing through the windshield for a few seconds before answering. "Athena, we're trading transport at Checkpoint C. We'll meet you at Olympus in twenty."

The tech's eyes went wide. "Twenty…but we've only got about…what, ten minutes? That man said-"

"I know, Benji," Ethan snapped. He looked away and lowered his volume to nearly a whisper. "The girl is the priority. Brandt understood that."

_**~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

"Your friends have abandoned you."

Brandt didn't try to turn around this time. His arms had gone a bit too numb to make any attempt at movement beyond the bare minimum. Just focusing on shifting his weight the best he could from one leg to the other had been difficult enough, for even the slightest bend in his knees would put that much more of his body mass on his already strained arms.

"Crispin Roux," he stated matter-of-factly.

The man looked surprised as he came around to make eye contact with Will. "How would you know that? Who have you been talking to?"

"No one," Brandt grinned. "You're too good at keeping yourself hidden."

The confusion on Roux's face almost made Brandt laugh. "I don't understand."

Will tried to shrug, but abandoned the attempt quickly when the movement burned his shoulder. "It's my job to know faces, and I don't know yours. The pieces just kind of fell together - South African, gunning for the senator's daughter, the senator that happens to be pushing new bills that put more restrictions on the diamond trade. You're not Kruger, Du Preez, or Botha – the only other dealers whacked out enough to pull a stunt like this – so that leaves me with Roux – the only one who's managed to keep his identity a complete secret."

"Impressive."

"Not really. Just process of elimination." He cocked his head slightly to the side. "My question to _you_ is, why risk coming out of hiding to personally take care of the kidnapping? Don't you have guys for that?"

"I think my men have already proven that if you want something done right…"

Brandt nodded. "But even you didn't plan on someone like me getting in the way. Kinda put a kink in your process, didn't I?"

Roux frowned. "Yes, you did, Prometheus."

"I'm guessing you want my name, too, since I figured out yours?" Brandt asked in a snide way that made it clear that he wasn't going to tell Roux even that much.

"No," the man answered, his eyes lighting up with an oddly joyful gleam. "The moniker you've given yourself suits the situation perfectly. The Titan chained down and forgotten by his own people." His much taller height allowed him to run a hand up to the shackles and along the bottom of the chains. "Left to the mercy of the eagle." The grin became more sinister. "All because of one little mistake born of the best intentions, I'm sure."

Brandt shook his head. "It wasn't a mistake. Not this time."

"We'll see about that," Roux said softly, just before his hand came up and plunged a needle into the agent's neck.

Brandt sucked in a sharp breath as his whole body seemed to jerk in reaction to the fast-acting drug. "What-?" he started to ask before he drowned out his own question with a pain-filled scream. Every muscle shook as he tried to fight off the sensation of acid pumping through his system.

Roux gripped Brandt's chin, forcing him to look into dark eyes so brown they were nearly black. "In myth, the eagle came once a day. _I _will come every hour to give you a different experience - ones that form deeper scars than_ this_." He stabbed a finger into the old gunshot wound, sending a rippling effect through Will's nerves that made him scream out, once again. "Are you certain now that you did not make a mistake?"

Brandt didn't answer, too lost in his new pain to even hear the question.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Another nice lil long one for ya, plus a bit of filling in the blanks... :)

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><p>Benji's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, and his lips were pressed so tightly together that their color was nearly identical to that of his hands. He stared straight ahead, his eyes glued to the road in front of him, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. Getting to the checkpoint and alternate vehicle had taken longer than anticipated, and it was now nearly fifteen minutes past the time that they were due to check in with the African.<p>

Ethan kept his head turned towards the passenger window as he absently rolled his earpiece around in his fingers. He didn't have to look at Dunn to know that the tech was pissed at him; the heavy silence that had fallen between them since the discussion in the bus said more than any ranting argument ever could. Not that it mattered; Hunt's hands were tied on this one. He could never willingly trade a twelve-year-old child for his agent, and Brandt would never forgive him for it if he tried. Using the girl as a ruse to try to trick the kidnappers into a trade would be too risky, too unethical…and Brandt would never forgive him for that, either. If they did _anything_ to put that kid in danger, Will would still be lost to them as a member of the team.

If he wasn't already gone…

"Pull over," he instructed, his voice so distant that Benji almost missed the comment.

Forcing his lips even tighter together to keep himself from saying anything he'd later regret, Benji pulled the Jeep into a near empty parking lot and silently waited for whatever it was that Ethan was going to say or do next. When he saw the team leader put the comm. back into his ear, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved that Ethan was going to make the call, or terrified over what news may come from the men that held Brandt. Not knowing anything was worse, though, so without being told to do so he reached into the back of the car and pulled out the small transmitter box for the comm. units. He dialed it back to the original channel they were on back at the campus, and gave Ethan a single nod to go ahead.

"This is Zeus," Ethan started. "Is anyone on this line?"

There was nothing but silence on the other end.

"I repeat, this is Zeus. Does anybody copy?"

Several seconds ticked by before static filled his ear for a split second, and then there was _that voice. _"Zeus. You missed your deadline. Punctuality is not something I take lightly."

"Is he alive?" Ethan asked, cutting right to the chase.

His question was met by another long pause before an anguished scream suddenly echoed through his ear. The cry died down and was followed by loud pants and choked-off curses as his agent clearly struggled to keep himself under control. It seemed to be a losing battle as another pained wail tore from Brandt's throat.

"Does he sound alive to you?" the African asked, a touch of amusement in his tone.

Ethan shut his eyes as his friend's screams became muffled, and then faded as the man with the mic moved away from the sound. "What do you want?" he quietly asked.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Benji let out the breath he'd been holding, and realized the tech must have only switched the one comm. over to the appropriate channel. He had been waiting on Ethan's reaction to find out whether Brandt was still alive or not, and hearing that one simple question was answer enough for him. Hunt was grateful for that; Jane and Benji didn't need to have Brandt's screams burned into their memories.

The African's laughter brought Ethan back to the moment. "You know what I want."

"I can't give you the girl," Hunt continued in the same flat tone of voice. "I was asking what you wanted with her. What was the ransom? What were your demands? Give me something to work with."

"There is nothing you can give me," the man snapped. "The senator will grant you nothing as long as he knows his child is safe. He is selfish. He will not care about your agent."

Hunt shifted forward in his seat, his agitation growing. "You don't know that, you don't know how high my agency's influence goes. Please, just give us a chance, give _him _a chance. Tell me what you want."

The man was silent for a few seconds as he presumably thought over Hunt's pleas. The answer he came back with was short and firm. "No. In thirty-six minutes, you will call me back to tell me that you will hand over the girl."

Ethan swallowed. "And if we don't?"

"I already told you. I am the Eagle, and your friend's suffering is only just beginning. Remember, Zeus, it was _you _who decided the fate of Prometheus."

The line went dead in Hunt's ear. He could feel Benji's questioning gaze on him as he dropped his face into his hand.

"We have thirty-six minutes to hand over the senator's daughter," came the vague answer. He knew it wasn't what the tech was looking for.

"Or…?" Benji prompted.

Ethan turned his gaze back out the side window. "I don't know." He looked back at Dunn, making full eye contact with him for the first time. "But it sounds like he plans on keeping Brandt alive for the time being. We still have time to figure this out."

Benji nodded and put the Jeep back into drive. "Right. Let's go figure it out, then."

Ethan said nothing as they pulled back out into traffic, wondering what kind of shape they'd find Will in once they got to him. If there was anything they had learned about Brandt over the past year they had been working together since that first mission, it was that the man was as stubborn as they came. He wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of hearing him scream unless it was bad…_really _bad. If what Ethan heard was only the beginning…

Instead of shaking away the lingering memory of Will's cries, he held fast to the sound in his mind, locking it away for the fuel he'd need once he found his agent. That man would pay for hurting his friend, possibly to the level of earning Ethan yet another disavowed status. It never stuck, the IMF always asked for him back; but if they didn't this time, he'd at least know it was well worth it. No one touched his family and lived to tell about it.

_**~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

Jane jumped up, gun in hand, as Ethan and Benji walked through the door, somber looks on their faces. Tucking the gun back in its holster concealed in her waistband, she moved over to Ethan and shoved something into his hand, her face set in anger as she met his eyes. "We were played."

Ethan glanced down at the phone she had given him – _Brandt's – _before his eyes flicked around the room of the safe house. "The girl?"

"Sleeping. She's shaken up, but doing pretty good considering. I found her in the crawl space beneath the projector."

"The black hole," Benji murmured.

Jane nodded. "Will intercepted her in the hall. She was on her way to see Larson."

"The history teacher?" the tech asked. "Why was he there on a Saturday? Wasn't it a science field trip?"

"Exactly," Carter answered darkly. She nodded at the phone in Ethan's hand. "Brandt told her about us, left her a message to hand over when we found her."

Ethan turned the screen on and wasn't surprised to see a video recording pop up, ready to play. He waited a second as Benji moved in closer, while Carter stood back with her arms crossed over her chest. Hunt guessed she had already watched it at least ten times before their arrival; he would've done the same thing.

"Surprise! I'm here!" Brandt said, the video bouncing around a little as he ran. "Sorry I didn't tell you I was coming, kind of a last minute decision. The plan was to just kind of hang around, cover your backs…just in case you guys messed something up." He winked at the camera. "I was doing a prelim on campus yesterday when I saw someone I thought I recognized. Looked him up in the school directory – you guys would know him as Professor Larson, World History… Hold on." The phone stopped moving as Brandt stopped running. They had a partial view of his face as he peered around a corner, then the phone was slipped into his pocket. His voice was muffled as he spoke next, but it wasn't them he was talking to. "Tabitha Gale?" They presumed she must of nodded as he continued, his voice soft and neutral. "Tabitha, my name is Will. I'm a protective agent who works for your father. Do you know what that means?"

"Like Dad's bodyguards?" she asked.

"Right, like Dad's bodyguards." They could practically hear the smile on his face.

"Do you have a badge and a gun?" Tabitha continued, her tone a bit untrusting.

Will snorted out a laugh. "Smart girl. Yes, I do." There was a pause and rustling fabric as he pulled out the requested identification items. "Satisfied? …Okay, Tabby- can I call you Tabby? Okay, you need to listen to me, alright? You just got called down to see Professor Larson?"

"Yeah, but I don't know why. I didn't forget anything, and I didn't do anything wrong…" Her confusion made it that much more obvious that something wasn't right.

"No, you didn't. I'm going to tell you something, and you need to be brave for me, okay? Larson isn't who he says he is. He works for some very bad men, and I think they're trying to take you from your Dad. If you come with me now, I can keep you safe until my friends come to get you, okay?"

To everyone's surprise, Tabby simply sighed and mumbled out, "I knew it."

Brandt seemed just as shocked. "You knew it?"

"Nobody likes Professor Larson. He gives too much homework and yells a lot, but he's always nice to me. People are nice to me when they want something from my dad."

Will laughed again. "Well, this guy definitely wants something, and until he gets it I'm afraid that _you _are in danger, little lady. I'll make sure you're safe, though."

Tabby sighed. "I really hate Dad's job sometimes."

"Can't argue with you there, kiddo. Come on."

The phone came back out of Brandt's pocket. He pointed it to Tabby. "You want to wave to my friends?" he asked, to which she arched an eyebrow up at him before giving a hesitant wave. "I'm leaving a message for them in case this doesn't quite pan out like I'm hoping. If that's the case, you're going to play messenger for me, okay?" She nodded her head, after which he pointed the cam back up to himself. "I looked Larson up. Real name: Hank Richards. He's got a history of smuggling products from low-grade weed right on up to heavy artillery. If this guy's working here, someone on the hiring committee planted him; and since I don't know who the Senator's been talking to about you guys working undercover at the school, I didn't think it'd be safe to contact you until we had her in our custody. Never know who's listening in. -Wait, stop, Tabby." Things were quiet as Will glanced around another corner. "Okay, let's go… Uh, obviously I didn't exactly have a lot of time to plan this whole thing out…so I'm pulling an Ethan here, and working mostly on hunches."

A voice in the background was picked up, quiet at first, then it grew louder as Will slowly moved his way towards the source. Everyone froze as Brandt listened in his time, and Ethan, Benji, and Jane listened in theirs.

"How can she not be there yet? I paged her like fifteen minutes ago…Why would she stop at her locker?..."

"Tabby," Will whispered. "Do you know who that is?"

The camera shook a little – probably having gotten bumped as Tabby moved beneath Brandt's hand. "It's Mr. Porter, the Vice Principle," she whispered back. A small tremble was in her voice as she asked the next question. "Will, is he one of the bad guys, too? He's been here as long as _I _have. Everyone _likes _him."

"Sorry, kid," Brandt answered, clearly not knowing what else to say. The poor girl was being thrown into a rather harsh lesson about trust at far too young an age.

"…Well find her!" Porter growled, doing his best to keep his voice down. "The buses will be here soon. In fact, one of them's already out front…Yeah, it could be one of Gale's guys… No, I don't know what they look like. The only one I saw for sure was the woman, had to get her on staff…"

Benji frowned. "I _knew _I was there too early."

Ethan shushed him as Porter's voice began to fade, the man moving away from Brandt's position. "…I think Elliot's trying to find their comm. signal now…"

"Ugh, I hate it when my hunches are right," Brandt mumbled. The camera moved as the agent did, and he cursed when he checked out the door that would lead them from one building to another.

"What's wrong" Tabby asked, keeping her voice as quiet as she could.

"More bad guys," Will answered. "They're looking for us. You stay close, go on my signal, okay?"

There was a long pause before they were moving fast, running across the path from one door to the next. As they moved through the buildings, there were a couple times when Will had to take them on detours to avoid being seen before they finally made it to the planetarium. "Here, hold this for me," he said, and handed the phone off to Tabby as he unscrewed the panel. "You're gonna hide in here and be really quiet for me, alright?"

"Where are _you _going?" she asked, the fear in her voice evident.

He reached into the hole and pulled out the doll, ignoring the question. "What do ya think, that look like you?"

"It's kind of…ugly…" Tabby answered, causing Will to laugh.

"Yeah, well, it'll do the trick. I'm gonna make sure the bad guys are following _me_, and staying away from _you_."

There was a pause. "What if they catch you?"

The camera moved close to his face as he reached for it again, revealing a small, knowing smile. "I'm gonna try really hard to make sure that doesn't happen…but just in case, I need you to give my friends my phone, okay? Looks like you're playing messenger, after all."

"How will I know who they are?" she asked.

Brandt thought for a second before answering. "Did you see the new substitute teacher around? Tan skin, dark hair-"

"The pretty one?"

Will nodded. "Yeah, the pretty one. She's one of our agents. Her name is Jane, and she's a really nice lady."

"She doesn't look like she can stop one of those guys. They looked pretty scary," Tabby speculated.

"Trust me, she can take _me _down if she wanted to. She's tough."

Jane turned her back to Ethan and Benji as they continued to listen to Brandt's descriptions. "There's another guy – Benji – British, blond hair, kind of goofy, and he's _really _smart with computers. You hang with him, he'll make you laugh. He's a little sensitive, though, so you watch out for him for me if I don't make it back, okay?"

"Christ," Benji breathed. "It sounds like he's saying goodbye."

Will helped Tabby slide down into the hole as he continued. "Ethan, he's the boss. He's got black hair, kind of hangs down in his face."

"Like he needs a haircut?"

"Exactly like that," Will chuckled again. "If anyone can keep you safe, it's that guy. You do everything he tells you, even if it sounds kind of wacky. His craziest plans always seem to work out the best. Can you do that? Can you trust him for me?"

"Do _you _trust him?"

There was a pause. "With my life," Brandt said solemnly. His voice perked up as he handed the phone back to her. "Don't make a sound unless you think you hear one of my friends, okay? Give this to them as soon as they get you out. I'll try to meet up with you later."

A hand covered the screen as Will turned off the recording. Ethan, Benji, and Jane stood in silence for several long seconds before Hunt brought them back on task. "Find out everything you can on Porter and Richards. See if you can link either of them to the African. If Richards is a smuggler, I'm thinking this has to do with the diamond trade. Gale was pushing some sort of new law about that. Get on it."

"What are _you _going to do?" Benji asked. "Because we've only got about twenty mor-"

"I'm watching the time, Benji, I know," Ethan interrupted. He saw Jane's eyes light up at the exchange, and he gave her a slight nod. "He's alive, and we're going to keep him that way. Which room is the girl in?"

"Mine," she answered.

He moved off towards the stairs without another word to either of them as Benji began to fill Carter in on what little he knew about Brandt's situation. When he got to the bedroom door, he knocked softly.

"Tabitha? It's Ethan. I'm coming in, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer as he pushed open the door. She peeked up at him from where she had her face buried in the pillow, her eyes slightly red with tears that she seemed to be refusing to let fall. _Tough kid, _Ethan thought as she made room for him to sit down.

"You _do _need a haircut," she remarked as she hugged the pillow to her chest.

He smirked slightly at that before becoming serious. Now was not the time for polite greetings and making friends with the mark. "Tabby, did Brandt – Will – tell you anything after he turned off the recording? Anything that might help us find him?"

She shook her head. "I asked him how he knew to bring the doll, and he said he didn't, that he just liked to be ready for any - what did he say? – any scenario. He had, like, six different plans ready, I guess, just in case different things happened. He said most of them weren't very good, though, since he had to come up with them pretty fast."

"Did he say what his plans were in case he got caught?"

"Yeah," she answered, and made eye contact with him. "You. He said you'd come get him. You can, right? He seemed pretty positive you could."

Ethan closed his eyes. He had thought maybe Brandt had actually chosen to simply sacrifice himself for the mission, to make up for what had happened to Julia with his own life. He couldn't have been more wrong. Will was waiting on him, _counting _on him to get him out. He just needed to figure out how…

"We'll bring him back," he assured the girl, glancing down at his watch to check the time. He needed to contact Gale. If he could get through to the Senator now, there might still be enough time to save Brandt from whatever the African had planned for him next. If the Senator wouldn't cooperate, then Ethan had a plan of his own to try to persuade the man to change his mind. As far as Hunt was concerned, no one involved in this mess was walking away without earning a share of the nightmares that were sure to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I should probably mention that I'm totally making up these drugs and their effects. I assumed you all would figure that, but just in case... Yes, our villain is a super drug chemist guy with all the magical syringes full of as much Brangsty whump as I can possibly want! Screw realism! Ha!

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, sorry this chapter took a little longer to get out. I'm playing around in Vegas right now.

Beta Branch, you're beautiful. Keep me laughing, guys! You're my energy drink of choice. ;)

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><p>Will was exhausted. Pain had a way of draining the body of all its energy faster than sprinting a marathon ever could, and the last hour of his life was hands down the most painful one he had ever experienced. Anyone who had ever used the term <em>blood boiling <em>had no idea what it meant – he did, now. For almost an hour it had felt like someone had lit a fire under him, but the only thing that got hot was the liquid coursing through his veins. Even now as he hung limply from the shackles, not caring that the muscles and tendons in his shoulders felt like they were slowly being torn in half, or about the lines of blood running down his arms from where the metal was biting into his wrists, he could still feel the warm remnants of the drug. The burner had been turned off, but he was still sitting at a slow simmer, cooling little by little.

He heard the door open behind him and gamely shifted his feet beneath rubbery legs. It was an effort, but he managed to get himself standing on his own accord before Roux circled around in front of him. Unable to quite lift his head all the way, he glared up at his captor under his brow, breathing heavily from the effort it was taking not to just let himself hang there like a slab of beef in front of the butcher.

"How was that?" Roux asked in an obnoxiously chipper voice.

Brandt wasn't going to answer, but then he caught the slight shift in where his captor was focusing, and the tiny quirk of a smile that played across the man's mouth for only a millisecond.

"Peachy," he rasped out, wincing at the sound of his own voice. His throat was more than a little raw from screaming off and on for the past hour, but he swallowed past the searing pain so he could continue. "Better than those…boring office parties…nobody goes to."

Roux laughed. "You have a smart mouth, Prometheus. It's a shame you won't be using it for long."

Will let his head fall forward again, too tired to care about vying for any sort of dominance via eye contact. "You gonna…stitch my lips shut? …Probably the only way…to shut me up."

There was a slight hesitation before Roux answered, and Brandt was glad his face was hidden so the diamond dealer couldn't see his victorious little smirk. "No. That would be barbaric. I have a…subtler touch."

"Right, subt-"

He cut himself off with a hiss as he felt the prick of another needle in his neck. Instinctively he kicked out at his captor, but the movement was slow and weak, allowing Roux to dodge it with little effort. The man laughed as he stepped around to Brandt's side, surprising him with a second needle injection. He jerked one of his arms in it's confines as if trying to take a swing, growling in frustration at his lack of ability to defend himself.

"Shhhh….do not take this out on me," Roux said in an oddly soothing voice. "This is Zeus's doing. He's the one who won't give up the girl."

Brandt did his best to clear his throat. "You being a…sick _fuck_…is _not _his fault. I'm glad…glad he won't…"

The words faded away as he felt his body responding to the new drugs. It started with a tingling numbness, followed with loss of motor function. He sagged down in the shackles again, and let out a little moan as he realized the numbness was evolving to complete lack of feeling. Following the inferno he had just went through, part of him wanted to be grateful for that; but coupled with the way the floor was starting to look oddly like water swirling up around his ankles, he didn't think the experience he was about to go through would be any less traumatic than the last…

_**~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

"But you have her," Gale repeated.

Ethan paced back and forth in his bedroom as he spoke, not liking where the conversation was going. "Yes, Senator, she's in our custody."

"Good. I'd like you to keep her there for now. I trust that she'll be safe until the vote closes?" The man sounded distracted as he spoke.

"Senator, what about my agent?"

There was a pause as Gale instructed someone to fetch him some paperwork. "I don't see how losing one of your men has any relevance to me. I'm sorry it happened, but you people know the risks when you sign on for a job. I'm sure it's in your contract somewhere, as my lawyers would be more than happy to point out if-"

Ethan stopped moving and clutched the phone harder. "This isn't about a lawsuit, Gale," he ground out, trying his best to keep his voice down so Tabby wouldn't hear him yelling at her dad from the other room. "My man is still alive, taking the place of _your _daughter. I'm just asking you to help me stall for time."

"And what do you expect me to do? Postpone the vote?"

"_Yes_." Ethan held his breath as he waited for the Senator's answer. The small chortle of disbelief that finally came through was enough to have him moving on his next course of action before Gale could speak.

"How would I even begin to explain that? I can't hold up a vote that the entire country – hell, that the entire _world_ - has been waiting on simply for the sake of a…a…_bodyguard._ He did his job, he'll be commended for it with the highest honors, and I apologize for your loss, Agent Hunt."

"He's not _dead_ yet," Ethan spat out as he got to the bottom of the stairs. Benji and Jane looked up at him from where they were working on obtaining information in regards to Porter and Richards. Hunt looked at Benji and pointed at his watch, then motioned between the cell phone and the comm unit he fished out of his pocket. The tech nodded and changed gears without any hesitation, putting away the research in favor of linking up lines of communication.

Jane leaned forward and whispered, "I want to hear it, too."

Ethan shook his head, but the dark looks he got from both his teammates made him change his mind. They were going to listen in on that call this time whether he wanted them to or not - Benji would see to it. Asking for permission was simply a sign of respect they were granting him, but they'd do it without his approval. Not wanting to put them in that position to go against direct orders, he closed his eyes and nodded. Now was not the time to create rifts between the remaining members of the team.

"Senator, I need to make a call to the man holding my agent," Hunt informed Gale once Benji gave him the thumb's up.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Gale answered in a dismissive manner.

"No. You're hearing this."

"Agent Hunt, I don't have time to-"

Ethan's voice was eerily calm as he interrupted the politician. "We have your daughter, Senator Gale. You don't know where we are, you don't know much about _who _we are, we have a man being tortured by the enemy making demands to give up the girl, and we are holding her in our custody. Do you really want to argue with me on this?"

Gale sucked in his breath, his full attention on Ethan now. "Are you…_threatening_ me, Agent Hunt?"

"No, I'm simply laying out the facts. Truth is, Senator, we have more control in this situation than you seem to think we do, so right now I'm _taking _it. You _will _listen to this call, you _will _hear what that man is doing to my agent, and then you can think about reconsidering that vote. Is that clear?"

Gale's voice was cold when he responded. "How dare you use my daughter against me. I'll have your jobs for this."

"Fine," Ethan answered with solid acceptance. "Now shut up and listen."

He made eye contact with Benji and Jane who nodded back to him, granting him their full support. Taking in a breath, he turned on the comm and checked in.

"Zeus is online."

He was answered immediately. "Ah, perfect timing. Much better than the last call. Are you willing to hand over the girl now?"

"You know I can't do that."

A chair scraped across the floor. "And did you have any success with the Senator?"

Ethan ducked his head. "No."

The man chuckled. "Did I not tell you? He is selfish. He acts only to improve his own image. I fear you'll never get your agent back if you continue to seek the Senator out for assistance."

"Maybe there's another way," Ethan offered. "This is about stopping the diamond trade restrictions, right?"

"You've figured it out. It took you longer than I thought." There were footsteps on stairs.

"I had a hunch, just wanted to confirm it. Maybe we can stop the vote another way. We keep the girl safe, you free my agent, everybody walks away happy."

The man laughed. "You can't seriously think that will work. What are you going to do? Pull the fire alarm?"

Ethan shrugged. "If that's what it takes."

Another laugh. "A temporary solution, Zeus. Until I can go home knowing the bill is dead in the water, I'm afraid we have no deal." The footsteps stopped. "I can't honestly say I'm disappointed at this point. There is still time before your mind is changed."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself," Ethan commented dryly.

"Because I am." A door opened. There was a soft groan and chains rattled, followed by panting breaths.

"How was that?" the African asked, clearly no longer talking to Hunt.

The chipperness in the man's voice hit a nerve in the listening agents, especially in Ethan who had heard Brandt's previous screams. "The more you enjoy this, the more I'm going to enjoy making you pay for it when we catch you," he hissed.

The chains rattled again and suddenly Brandt's voice was there, rasping, tired, pained, but there. "Peachy… Better than those…boring office parties…nobody goes to."

Jane and Benji exchanged a curious glance with Ethan. The IMF didn't _have _office parties, so it was an unusual comparison for Will to make. They wanted to believe it was a message for them, that he knew somehow that they were there; but not wanting to get their hopes up too much, they listened more as Brandt mouthed off to the African about stitching his lips shut.

"Don't give this bastard any ideas," Ethan mumbled. His comment was followed by a slight hesitation in the conversation as if the man almost responded to it but caught himself, instead carefully choosing a response that would address both Ethan _and _Brandt, claiming himself to be not barbaric.

The looks that passed between the trio were more sure this time - Brandt was sharp. He would've caught that odd hesitation in the conversation. Ethan gave them a slight nod as they continued to listen, then turned away from them quickly when Brandt's response to his captor were suddenly cut off. There was a grunt as the chains rattled, a gasp, the sound of the chains being jerked sharply, followed by a frustrated grown and heaving breaths.

Then there was the African's voice again, low and soothing, and placing the blame on Ethan. Hunt put his hand over his eyes and ducked his head; and then there was Brandt's response – soft, but his tone firm despite it's fading strength, clearly telling Ethan that it was _not _his fault, and trying to reiterate that he didn't want the girl involved. Any doubt left that Brandt knew they were listening diminished with that statement.

The chains rattled sharply, the sound coming to an abrupt stop. There was another light groan followed by an agonizingly prolonged silence. The nerve-biting laugh returned.

"I should really introduce you to the myth of the Eagle the proper way; but don't worry, Prometheus. I promise you won't feel any pain, but I've made certain that you'll stay awake through the procedure. I want you to see _everything._" Footsteps sounded, and then the man was hollering orders. "Get that table in here and my tools, then help me get him down. We have a little surgery to perform."

Ethan lost his tight control and frantically yelled into the phone, "You said you were keeping him alive!"

"And I intend to, Zeus. Trust me, he will be quite fine when I'm through. I won't break my play thing this early in the game."

Hunt clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. "When I find you-"

"You won't, agent, not unless you promise me the girl. Until then, enjoy the show."

As they listened in horror to what the African was doing to their friend, the only glimmer of satisfaction Ethan could gain from the experience was hearing Gale's reaction to it. If nothing else came of this torture session, at least he knew the Senator would look back on this moment in shame, terror, and hopefully some guilt-ridden self disgust for the rest of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **A short chapter - sorry! But it kinda needed to stand by itself. We are setting the scene for the future whumpage...

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><p>"There, now, we're finished," the African said in barely a whisper, his tone soothing. "I am going to give you one more little injection-"<p>

"Don't," Ethan demanded. "He's had enough."

"Every hour," the man replied with the same gentle voice. "The Eagle comes to stake its claim every hour."

A tear rolled down Jane's cheek as they heard a tiny whimper, followed by footsteps and a door opening and closing. The African's voice came back one more time.

"Don't worry, I simply gave him something to keep the edge off that sharp mind of his. You have another hour to change your mind on the girl. Consider this a moment of compassionate reprieve for you both."

The comm went dead after that, leaving Ethan and his team sitting in a state of mild shock. Jane angrily wiped the tear from her cheek.

"Compassion my ass," she mumbled.

Ethan stood up. "Benji, transfer the Senator back to my phone." He waited until the tech did as asked, then started in on the man before Gale had a chance to react to what they had all just heard. "_That_ could've been your daughter."

"S-surely he wouldn't do that to a child," the Senator stammered.

"And it's because of my agent that you never have to find out. You owe him. _Help me_ get him out of there."

There was a long, quiet pause before Gale answered. "I'll see what I can do."

A collective sigh of relief filled the room. Ethan closed his eyes, grateful that finally something appeared to be going right. "Thank you, Senator."

Gale cleared his throat. "And what of the school personnel responsible?"

Ethan's tone darkened. "We'll take care of them ourselves."

The dark looks on Jane's and surprisingly Benji's face spoke volumes of what would be done to the two moles when they caught up to them. Ethan would let them handle Richards and Porter. _He _wanted the Eagle.

_**~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

Brandt blinked, moaning as he became aware of the feel of unforgiving stone against his back. _Feel. _He could feel again…sort of. He was still a bit detached from his body, unable to really move his arms or legs more than a twitch. Then again, that could just be due to the chains binding him to the rock.

Wait. That wasn't right.

He hadn't really been chained to a stone slab, had he? No, that was the story Roux was trying to confuse him with. He wished he hadn't given the freak the whole Prometheus myth idea. It had seemed like such an appropriate moniker at the time – him coming in under the gods' noses to steal the fire, knowing he was probably going to get caught and punished for it – not that he really _wanted _to be, and he definitely hadn't been expecting an eagle to actually come and tear into his liver.

_Oh god._

It took all his strength to pick his head up in order to look at his torso, to see the blood smeared all across his abdomen and pooling down on the stone…metal table?...it was switching back and forth. It didn't matter. With panicked pants he began to slowly work his hand down from above his head, inch by inch, until he could feel where the incision had been made. He had watched, paralyzed, as the Eagle hovered over him, smiling as it pricked him with its razor sharp beak. It spoke to him as it cut him open and rummaged around in his insides, telling him every detail about what it was doing to him. All he could do was lay there, doing his best to cry out for the damn bird to stop, but the only sounds he could make were pathetic groans and whimpers. There had been so much blood, and he was pretty sure he had choked on his own vomit when the Eagle started pulling out his-

He shook his head. Stupid bird shouldn't have turned his face for him, should've let him just choke to death.

His fingers danced across his flesh and confusion set in as he realized there was only a tiny cut just under his sternum. It couldn't have been more than an inch long… Was he really Prometheus? Did he heal every day, growing everything back that the bird had taken out?

Every hour. The Eagle had told him once every hour.

The thought made him feel a little nauseous again. He managed to push himself over onto his side clumsily, nearly falling off the table. Table. It was definitely a metal table, not a stone slab, and he hadn't been chained down. Not that it mattered. It's not like he could just get up and walk away. His legs would probably give out on him, sending him tumbling down the cliffside into the raging ocean below.

Or…no…there was dust, and a door that would open and shut when the Eagle came in…wasn't there?

He was so sure he could hear the waves crashing into the rocks, though…

Something floated into his line of vision, a bowl sitting on a little tray close to his stone altar – table - _dammit_. Why couldn't he focus? He raised his head up a little more so he could see inside the bowl, and instantly regretted it as a much bigger wave of nausea hit him hard upon identifying the contents. The muscle spasms from his body reacting to the nausea sent him off balance, sending him to the floor in a heap.

"It's not real," he whispered as he curled himself into a ball. It couldn't have been real. There was no way he could laying there, alive, if what was inside that bowl actually came out of his body.

The water continued to slam into the rocks below him, sending up a cool mist to wet his face. He wiped it off, then let out a tiny gasp as he realized his hand was coated in blood. Shaking, he reached down to his stomach and felt around, sucking in a breath as he realized the fall had torn open the inch-long cut back to its original gaping hole. He jerked his hand back, not wanting to feel himself bleeding out.

"It's not real," he repeated, closing his eyes against the horrifying visions. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real."

He kept saying it until he eventually passed out, arms wrapped around his head, legs tucked up close to his chest as he let the sounds of the ocean lull him back to sleep, wondering if he'd wake up or if the blood loss would take him away from his torture.

Roux smiled as he watched through a tiny crack in the door, wondering if the drugged man was still hallucinating about eagles ripping into his body. By the looks of it, he most definitely was. The added blood and bowl full of pig organs had probably seen to that.

Silently shutting the door, the African happily walked away, leaving the agent to his nightmares.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Ugh, been too long since my last update on this! I'm sorry guys! But it's here, and I've got a new system for working on my fics so it shouldn't take so long to around to it the next time. Thanks for reviews and all that jazz, and to Beta Branch for making me get my ass in gear, and...uh...don't kill me when you get to the end of this chapter...

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><p>"What've you got?" Ethan asked, leaning over the table Benji and Jane were working on.<p>

The tech spoke without turning his eyes away from his computer. "It appears Richards was hired onto the school via Porter's personal recommendation. As far as I can tell, no other members of the faculty are involved. Fake ID, of course, which means false address, contact number, references – everything about 'Larson' was a well-crafted ruse. _Richards, _on the other hand, has a rather impressive smuggling record. Agencies all over the country have been after him under different aliases, as well as around the world. Last anyone had seen of him, he was in Spain peddling some type of rare gemstone. Seems like he'll trade in anything that'll bring in money."

"Can we tie him to the African?"

"Possibly. I've run his face through recognition software, and it's scanning cameras all over the city. If any of them pick him up I'll be alerted immediately. I'm hoping to catch him doing something that may clue us in."

Ethan nodded. "Good. Jane? What've you got on Porter?"

She sighed. "On the outside everything about him looks clean. He's been at the school for almost twenty years, wife, three sons. The only record he has with the law are a few speeding tickets, paid off immediately. No shady relatives, no apparent friendships with anyone who looks suspicious, nothing unusual in any of his accounts. This guy's a model citizen according to what I'm seeing here."

"Model citizens don't help kidnap little girls. There's a link in there somewhere. Find it." He shifted in close to the screen and wrote something down on a slip of paper before heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Jane asked.

"Making a little house call."

Benji scoffed. "Well, you can't expect him to just have gone home after this. That would be lunacy!"

"Maybe. But maybe he's a lunatic. Call me if anything else comes up. I'll be back before the next check-in."

He had just about shut the door when a voice called out from the stairs. "Wait!"

All eyes looked to see Tabby standing there, a little in shock at the intensity of the stares she now fell under.

"Tabby, do you know something?" Jane asked, trying to ease some of the tension.

The girl nodded. "Mr. Porter has a house by the lake. He told us once. He takes his kids there in the summer."

Jane furled her brow. "There's no lake house listed in his files anywhere."

"I don't think he meant to tell us," Tabby added. "A bunch of us were hanging around, just talking about camping trips and stuff, and it just kind of slipped out I guess. He changed the subject pretty quick after that."

Ethan walked back into the room and knelt down in front of her. "What lake, Tabby? Did he say?"

She shook her head. "It's a private one, I guess. I remember he said he liked it 'cause there weren't a bunch of people crowding the beach."

"Benji, look up any privately owned lakes in the area," Hunt ordered, snapping his fingers. He then turned to speak to the girl again. "Okay, this is important, alright?" He waited for her nod. "Do you think he remembers that he told you?"

She thought about it for a minute. "I doubt it. It was a long time ago, like a couple years, and there were a bunch of us. I don't think he even knew my name back then."

"Good. That's good," Ethan said with a genuine smile. "Thank you, Tabitha."

"Will this help you find Will?" she asked softly.

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder lightly. "I hope so. Why don't you stay here with Jane and see if there's anything else you can tell them about Porter or Professor Larson that might help, okay?"

"Richards," she corrected. "Will said his real name was Richards."

"Right," Benji said with a grin. "Do you want to tell me about him?"

She rolled her eyes in response. "I can tell you a _ton _about him. I _hate _that guy."

The three agents laughed. "Good girl," Ethan said, and got up to leave. "I'm still going to check out Porter's house, see what I can get from there. Benji tell me when you get that lake."

The tech nodded, preparing to multitask the lake search with gathering information on Richards from whatever Tabitha could tell him. Time was their greatest enemy at the moment, so he couldn't afford to take things one at a time.

"Jane," he alerted, interrupting what Tabby was saying. "Run a check on all the office buildings in the city and surrounding areas."

"Brandt's comment?" she asked.

"Brandt's comment," he agreed. "It'll be a _very _long list, but maybe we'll get lucky."

"On it." She had never prayed for luck so hard in her entire life.

_**~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~MI~**_

His eyes felt heavy as he worked incredibly hard to get them to open. The room blurred in and out in front of him, and it took a few minutes before he could focus on the legs of what looked like a metal table in front of his face.

The memory hit him like a bullet in his gut, and he instinctively reached for his stomach at the though. Blood, drying and sticky, still covered his torso but the gaping hole he swore had been there when he'd passed out no longer existed. It was back down to just the scabbed-over cut he had a brief recollection of discovering before real life seemed to blur with memories of being locked in a gory myth.

He still felt weighted down, fought to try to keep his focus on what was actually going on around him, but the drugs in his system were warring with his rationale for dominance. At least he could think with some sort of clarity again, could decipher the fact from the fiction…sort of.

The seagull that he thought he saw fly over his head – that _clearly_ couldn't have happened inside an old building. The waves he was still hearing – the sound hadn't been there when he was coherent. In fact, he couldn't recall hearing much of anything filtering in through the busted windows…not even the sounds of traffic. Not in the city, then. Where the hell was he?

Oh, that's right. He was on the edge of a cliff.

_Wrong, Brandt. Office. You're in some grunt worker's old office, remember? There's an outline of the copy machine still on the wall where the paint's all sun-faded around it. See the scuffmarks on the floor from chairs being rolled across it a million times? They don't use rolling chairs on cliffsides._

Catching all those little details was helping to keep him in the proper setting. That was phase one. Phase two was to get his ass off the floor. Phase three was to get to the door, and keep right on going until he got the hell out of the building.

Though the window was closer…

Phase two adjusted to not necessarily getting all the way up, but settling for dragging his barely functioning legs behind him towards the closest of the three windows. It occurred to him as he caught site of his torn wrists that they should probably hurt, and hauling himself across a room should probably hurt his shoulders even more. Apparently the drugs had _some _advantage, at least.

_That looks so high up from here._

He'd have to grip the bottom of the windowsill to pull himself up. Why were there windowsills, anyway? Roux couldn't stash him in a more modern building where the entire walls were made of windows? Like in Dubai? That had been fun, standing there staring out at city and desert, nothing between him and the longest drop of all time.

"What the hell is that?" he whispered as he got his elbows hooked around the sill enough for him to look outside.

A cloud. A huge cloud was headed his way. That's right – the sandstorm. There was a huge fucking sandstorm coming straight at him, and it was already blowing tiny, stinging particles into his eyes.

With a curse, he let go of the sill and curled himself into ball beneath it, covering his head and trying his best not to rub at his face. His eyes stung with the sand trapped beneath his eyelids, but he knew he could risk scratching his corneas if he didn't let his tears wash the foreign bodies out naturally. It'd be fine. Jane probably had eyewash in her purse or something. Did she carry a purse? He didn't think he ever saw her with one…

Brandt's mind drifted in and out of nonsensical thoughts as he lay curled beneath the window, waiting out a sandstorm that didn't exist, crying out the dust particles that had wafted up from his own breath hitting the aged windowsill. If he could've kept his mind focused for just one more minute, he would've been aware of the fire escape that lay just within his reach. Instead, he passed out again, blissfully unaware of just how close he had come to effecting his own escape.


End file.
